


Naja naja

by dehautdesert



Series: The Third Aspect [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Creepy Undertones, Daemons, Gen, Same-Sex Daemons, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dehautdesert/pseuds/dehautdesert
Summary: The birth of Galadriel and the nature of her daemon cause something of a stir at Formenos.





	Naja naja

**Author's Note:**

> Not absolutely necessary to read the other parts of this series to understand this, especially if you're familiar with daemon-verse fics, but it helps with head-canon specific to this verse, and some character development.
> 
> Skip to the end for a list of daemons appearing in this part - their forms might not be made entirely explicit in the text. For this verse I decided to have some fun and give the daemons names of mythological characters from our world, some random, some very on-the-nose in terms of symbolism. The title of each part is the binomial species name of one of the daemons featured in the chapter - in this case, Galadriel's.
> 
> That's about it, now enjoy some bickering Feanorions, this time with daemons!

 

_"… and Feanor took to wife Nerdanel, daughter of his Master, Mahtan, and to him she bore seven sons – and to her daemon Hephaestus fiery Pandora gave seven daughters. Their names, in due order, were Calliope, Aoide, Clio, Urania, Melete, Thalia and Terpischore_

 

_Of all the daughters of Pandora four of seven had the forms of birds, though none resembled hers, and six of seven had the means of flight. Only Calliope, the eldest of her daughters, could not take to wing, yet all of the Noldor agreed she was nonetheless the most astounding of the sisters, and perhaps even as much as her mother was._

 

_Whether any of the other six envied the form of Calliope, as many have suggested, cannot be said here. Yet it has also been said Pandora herself favoured Melete, as Feanor did Curufin, because of her colouring and likeness in temperament._

 

_But Pandora did not take interest in the children of her sisters, except in only one instance, for of their number only one caused near the same wonderment in Valinor as she had, and this was the daemon of Finarfin's daughter Galadriel…_ "

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

"A snake?" Amburussa the elder said with some surprise. Thalia fluttered from the tip of his finger to the top of his head, and he leant back and sighed. "Father-and-mother will not like that, I think."

 

_No indeed_ , thought Makalaure.

 

Aoide nudged his leg. _Much as it would have bored us to hear him laugh on at the 'flying rat brigade' for another year_ , she reminded him. He agreed with her on that, but the fact remained no other elf in the family had had a snake-daemon since Finwe, and their father-and-mother would not like this.

 

"I don't know about that," said Carnistir, throwing one hand out back the way he'd come in from. "Father has said he wishes to make the journey to attend the celebration, so apparently he thinks the birth of one of our cousins worth celebrating for once."

 

Makalaure looked at him sharply, and the rest of his younger brothers sat up at attention at once, daemons likewise. Only Maitimo, who of course they all looked to for direction, remained still – and Calliope's turn of head was slight and slow.

 

So, seeing that their eldest brother declined to comment, Tyelkormo put himself forward instead.

 

"What, for one of _them_?" he scoffed. "I don't believe it."

 

"Believe it," Urania told him from Carnistir's shoulder. "Father-and-mother told us, and heard it from Mother-and-father themselves when they brought them the letter. Nerdanel also said the new hatchling's more than just a snake; he's special."

 

Carnistir snorted. "But she wouldn't say how," he told them.

 

"What?" asked Atarinke. "Special like Pandora?"

 

That suggestion caused a silence in the group; Makalaure saw Maitimo turn his head towards them at last and Aoide shuddered. Her shudder in no way spoke of any horror she had of her mother, but rather she and her elf both felt one Pandora was enough for this family. Or perhaps this world.

 

Yet Melete took notice, and what she noticed displeased her.

 

"What was that, sister?" she asked. She flew from Atarinke's shoulder to the arm of the chair Makalaure was sitting on in a flash of crimson and violet. "Am I to understand you have some problem with our mother?"

 

Makalaure saw the look on Atarinke's own face and cringed. Melete was the rare type of daemon that emoted more than her elf did, which in a way was fortunate since if she'd emoted less it would have been much more difficult to know what Atarinke was thinking at any given moment. Still, Makalaure was his brother, and usually that bond meant at the very least he knew Atarinke's heart from his eyes, and right now his eyes agreed with the overly-sweet threatening tone of Melete.

 

Atarinke may have been much younger than Makalaure, who had recently attained his majority. But all the brothers knew which of them was most like their father-and-mother, and which most fiercely defensive of him, and of Pandora.

 

However, before Makalaure could find suitably mollifying words to assure Atarinke, Maitimo rose from his seat and stepped in with consummate matter-of-factness.

 

"If something like Pandora comes from Indis' branch of the family there'll likely be a problem throughout the kingdom, what with how things are between father and our uncles."

 

"Mm," Makalaure added, grateful for the assistance. "Though at least this serpent came from Orpah, and not Ruth."

 

Father had little love for Arafinwe and his dull dove, but he had less for Nolofinwe to be sure, and Makalaure thought he could see why. Arafinwe was too personable to give the impression of a particular threat – father had always called him a grinning fool or something along those lines, but his other uncle…

 

Nolofinwe was intimidating. He had this way of staring, saying nothing – the coldness in his eyes alone could get you to admit to any wrong you'd done without giving anything of himself away in turn, and though he knew Maitimo respected him Makalaure did not disbelieve his father's insistence that the middle son of Finwe was a threat. Having a daemon bigger than he was didn't help.

 

Meanwhile Maitimo snorted in agreement, casually petting Calliope's head as he passed and stood before Carnistir and Urania with his hands on his hips.

 

"Does Father wish for us to make ready to journey to Tirion now?" he asked.

 

Carnistir shrugged. "That's what Mother said. Another marvellous family reunion. Though I suppose _you_ can at least meet with Findekano while you're there."

 

As if to say that that was so, Maitimo's eyebrows raised briefly and he inclined his head.

 

"Is the new snake a stripy serpent like Gaia?" asked Amburussa the younger. "Are they the same colour?"

 

Again, Carnistir shrugged. "I told you everything I know already. But I suppose if he's on fire like Pandora then the answer's 'no'."

 

"Let's hope he's neither Pandora nor Gaia's colour," muttered Makalaure.

 

Aoide nudged him again, as comfort. "Did she say what their names are?" she asked.

 

Exhaling like he'd been asked to clean the stables every day for the rest of the season, Carnistir at length told them, "Our new cousin's father-name is Artanis… I wasn't listening to the rest."

 

"I don't think Nerdanel actually told us what the daemon's name was," said Urania, sounding no more interested than her elf.

 

There was a silence.

 

"Well," said Maitimo eventually. "Best make the lullaby I'm sure you are preparing as neutral as possible, Kano. Though as Arafinwe's child I'm sure she's as blonde as Aoide."

 

His thumb brushed over Aoide's yellow crown in a show of solidarity and she leaned in to him in turn.

 

The eldest two of the brothers knew both of them that this, this form of their new cousin's daemon, was just the sort of thing their father could not abide: the slightest hint from any corner that the children of Indis and their children might be more legitimate to the legacy of Finwe than he and his sons.

 

_And why should it not be_ , Aoide reminded him – with compassion rather than the fierceness of some of their younger brother-and-sisters – _when Feanaro is firstborn yet there are those of the people who gravitate more towards another branch of the tree when they hope to prosper from the blessing of its fruits?_

 

_Indeed_ , thought Makalaure. Their father had the right to be indignant at that thought; that he might be less favoured by others because his mother was no longer in the world and so he was not the son of the Queen as well as the King. Yet the hurt that this might cause his father hurt Makalaure either way, and he did not wish for his father to be troubled by the snake – thinking perhaps a song to celebrate the first line of Finwe's house might be more called for now than one for new life... it would be some time before they saw the babe, after all, and more before she'd understand his songs.

 

And if there were, perhaps, other reasons the children of Indis were more attractive to some people, well… Makalaure didn't really think about that. Just in case he did, Aoide nudged him a third time, looking pointedly with her scarlet eye. A warning.

 

He forced himself to chuckle. " 'Crested by the light of Laurelin itself' it is, then," he said, and the middle three brothers rolled their eyes.

 

"What even rhymes with 'itself'?" asked Amburussa the elder.

 

"Shut up," answered Makalaure. Maitimo snorted.

 

"Come on," he said. "If I know Father he'll have set the household to packing us up already, so you might as well choose what books or projects you all want to bring with you."

 

"Joy," said Tyelkormo. "Another visit with the flying rat brigade." He laughed humourlessly. "And the actual rat, of course."

 

Makalaure rubbed his brow. He begrudged those who would upset his father, yes, but unlike some he did not begrudge their cousins just for existing. Nor did Maitimo – Calliope rose and brushed Makalaure's leg and Aoide's grey wing to encourage them, her stripes rippling. But it was Carnistir who decided to take a jab.

 

"Oh?" he sneered. "Don't tell me you call Paris a 'flying rat', Tyelko. I don't think Irisse would like that very much."

 

Tyelkormo was, predictably, unamused.

 

"Hmm? I suppose you think you're implying something clever there, little brother?"

 

"Cleverer than you," said Amburussa the elder.

 

"It's not like Clio is much more impressive than our cousins," added his twin.

 

"And anyway Jemima's not a rat – "

 

"You don't talk that way about my daemon!" Tyelkormo snapped at their youngest brother, annoyed to vicious in an instant.

 

Amburussa flinched back, but then giggled, covering his mouth mischievously. Tyelkormo had lunged forward at him and then Clio flew indignantly to the top of the youngest's head and shrieked; his hands came up to cover his whole face and Terpischore tried to flutter out of reach but was caught in Clio's beak and struggled helplessly.

 

"Ow, ow, ow!" cried Amburussa.

 

"Stop it, Clio!" yelled his twin.

 

Thalia hastened to her own twin's rescue, but without sharp teeth, claws or weapons of any kind Makalaure didn't see that she'd have much luck – only something was causing Clio to shake her head furiously in an attempt to get her off. Of course, all this had happened in only the few seconds it had taken for Maitimo to groan and shout –

 

"Enough!" at the lot of them. Calliope roared a warning of her own, at which all her sisters scattered back to their elves.

 

Even Tyelkormo hissed and backed off too, yet all the same could not let the matter lie like that.

 

"Clio is a huntress, not a scavenger," he snarled a moment later.

 

"Mm, and not a _bug_ either," said Atarinke.

 

Maitimo rounded on him. "Curvo!" he snapped. Then to all of them, "If Father-and-mother heard any of you taking issue with the forms of their children…"

 

He let that thought speak for itself, and it did so loudly.

 

They all knew, of course, of the reaction one could expect of their father if one of them was criticised for any reason by anyone other than their parents, their mother's parents, or the King. Even teasing each other could set him off on long, if perhaps not entirely unappreciated, tirades on how wonderful the daemons of his children were.

 

_Not entirely unappreciated,_ Makalaure thought, _but…_

 

_But?_ Aoide prompted.

 

_But,_ he thought, _when held up against some of what he says about other daemons, as Amburussa said…_

 

He left it there – Aoide of course knew what he meant. Amburussa had been right in saying Clio was no more brightly coloured or fantastical than the daemons of Nolofinwe's children, for example – or Jonah, or Solomon – though at least Clio could fly, and fly well.

 

( " – she was unfurling her tongue _in my eye_!" the bird was complaining to her elf in a hiss).

 

And she _was_ an accomplished hunter, they'd been told so at her birth – and she showed it, catching insects and spitting them on thorns to prove her skill even when as a daemon she had no need to hunt – just as a true shrike would do. But Jonah was a hunter too. As was Angarato's Zipporah, and she was crested and patterned as well. Carnistir's Urania was black all over but for her golden eyes, but their father only crowed on how much like Hephaestus this made her, never explaining why a simple raven was such a marvellous thing to be compared to in the first place.

 

As for the twins, before their birth their father mocked relentlessly the concept of having an insect for a daemon; 'for such an elf must have been a pathetic bug indeed'. Then their mother conceived for the sixth and final time, and Thalia and Terpischore appeared beside their parents both in the form of caterpillars. Then all of a sudden they were the most amazing things ever to have walked the shores of Aman. As for when their cocoons had been spun and their butterfly selves emerged the day Amburussa had been birthed, why, then the orange of their wings was the orange of Pandora's flames, and fire itself, and anyone who said otherwise would face Feanaro's wrath.

 

After all, at least a butterfly could take flight.

 

And yet even then, while the lack of that ability in Findis and Nolofinwe's daemons had always been a source of jibes from Feanaro, it somehow didn't seem to be to the detriment of Gaia - and while poor Ruth was called 'the giantess' by Pandora without fail, neither being flightless nor being _huge_ as daemons went was a thing to criticise Calliope over.

 

Not that criticising Calliope would have been an overly attractive prospect even to one who had somehow found fault with her, thought Makalaure. He'd seen the size of her teeth whenever she'd opened her jaws – and certainly though she may not have been on fire, Makalaure would not have said she burned less brightly for it.

 

Yet the bright red and violet bird that was Melete – a more beautiful red there was no trace of upon all of Arda, so their father said – she was by far the most favoured, and certainly thought of as most beautiful by more than just their father.

 

And then there was Aoide, of course. A heron, whatever that signified.

 

_Don't tell me you take issue with my form, partner?_

 

Makalaure chuckled inside his head at the thought. _If I ever take issue with you, partner, then it is not because of your form_ , he told her.

 

They did argue sometimes, but never over anything serious. After all, who didn't argue with themselves from time to time?

 

"I didn't say anything," said Carnistir, shrugging. Makalaure distinctly remembered him mentioning something about Irisse and her daemon Paris, but was wise enough not to mention it.

 

"You didn't say anything about what?"

 

They stilled.

 

Without warning Pandora flew in through the window and her flames cast shifting shadows on the wall. But her children did not duck in fear before her as others did. Still, in unison there was a chorus of seven –

 

"Nothing, Pandora."

 

And seven –

 

"Nothing, Mother."

 

Feanaro climbed in swiftly through the same window a few moments later – no great feat as they were only a single storey up and there was a tree by the window, but Makalaure still wondered why he didn't use the door at times like these.

 

"Well, I hope it's nothing," their father said in greeting. "For woe befall anyone who would say evil things of my children. Now, are you ready to go?"

 

"No," said Carnistir bluntly. "I only _just_ told them you'd randomly decided we had to go off to see Uncle Arafinwe's new baby."

 

Their father had one of his more manic, dangerous looks about him – like he didn't know if he was grinning or growling. He turned around and as he did his eyes seemed to carry Pandora's fire with them, trailing light like streamers behind them for a fraction of a moment.

 

"Well, get a move on then!" he ordered them, ushering with his arms for emphasis. "We have a long way to go!"

 

There was no point raising opposition. Makalaure sighed and stood up, leaving only the twins seated, and Maitimo clapped him on the shoulder as they made for the door. Tyelkormo was the first to reach it, clicking his tongue like he'd been asked to carry the rest of them all the way to their grandfather's palace on his back, but he lingered in the doorway when Amburussa the younger asked –

 

"Is our new cousin's daemon the same type of snake as Gaia, Father?"

 

The rest of the brothers and their partners also stilled. But Feanaro was not bothered by the question by the look of it. He actually smiled.

 

"Nay," he told them. "Arafinwe's latest came into the world with a serpent white as the driven snow – and hooded – at her side." He laughed. "I've scoured the relevant bestiaries cover to cover since I received that giggling idiot's missive, but I've seen no snakes with hoods within their pages that are not dark in colour. If this one was, they'd call it a 'cobra'." He laughed again. "Venomous, of course, but what would you expect of a granddaughter of Indis?"

 

Makaluare tried not to roll his eyes. Again, he had no special love for Indis, but the new baby was only that: a baby.

 

"Is he that special just because he's of an unusual colour morph?" asked Atarinke, with disinterest. "It's hardly the same as being wreathed in fire."

 

It was then the smirk on their father's face became positively frightening, and Pandora was the one who flew to Atarinke's side and answered –

 

"Didn't you hear? 'He' has not been born a 'he' at all. Somehow Orpah's latest daughter has a girl for an elf."

 

"And Arafinwe's daughter a girl for a daemon," said Feanaro.

 

Aoide extended her long neck in shock, then similar gestures were seen throughout. Makalaure couldn't have said what that might have meant, but…

 

Well. There was no 'but' to be had really.

 

But it meant _something_ , apparently.

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

There she lay, safe in her crib surrounded by down and lamb's wool, all white and smocked and decorated with roses of white ribbon – an old garment of Nolofinwe's Irisse, since having known their child's daemon was female the parents had expected a boy, and had few girlish things prepared for her. Apart from the blue of her eyes and the golden tint of her fine hair, the only splash of colour was the black mark on the back of her daemon's hood.

 

Then, as Feanaro's shadow swept over them, the snake's eyes opened too. They were as blue as the elfling's.

 

And Feanaro's blood boiled.

 

The usual simpering look had been on Arafinwe's face as he'd been shown in to see the newborn, babbling on about how pleased he was that his 'dear brother' had come to see his niece – and at least Finwe had been truly happy about that, so it was a good thing in truth – but Feanaro could tell he did not _see_ , was too witless to see, how truly did the jewel he'd somehow made shine there.

 

And how could such a pearl have been from Arafinwe?! Did they not see her hair, and how the light caught and fractured in each shaft, the almost imperceptible rainbows that flickered in and out of sight about her golden head, and off the serpent's sparkling scales? That was not her Vanyar heritage. No Vanya had hair such as that. No, nor had any of them a daemon of their own sex – or Feanaro would have heard of it to be sure – and was that to signify she was of the purest essence of femaleness that there was? He did not know.

 

Had she been his, he would have found out as he raised her. His sons were all but perfect in themselves, and proved the unmatched greatness of their mother in their unheard of number, but not one of them had been a daughter, and this one of the spawn of the usurper was so unique in her arrival, so unmatched herself, such a lovely thing…

 

Such a precious thing…

 

Such a precious thing that she _should have been his_!

 

"Feanaro?"

 

The precious daughter's gleaming eyes bored into his, and her little golden brow narrowed into a frown.

 

"Uh, Feanaro… Pandora's feathers are beginning to burn true… is there something wrong?"

 

Arafinwe was now nervous, nervous as a little mouse, and Feanaro didn't bother to answer him, but he tore himself away from the daughter that was not his and met Pandora's gaze.

 

Her thoughts, which he had been ignoring in the past few moments, were clear as crystal.

 

_Do not dishonour our mate by wishing for what is not of them!_

 

Rarely did he and Pandora disagree. He was quick to find a compromise.

 

_I will say nothing out loud_ , he promised.

 

She too was frowning at him, though her fires cooled.

 

Behind him, Makalaure stepped in to diffuse the tension and alleviate the mouse's troubled nerves, as was his wont.

 

"What is the name of Artanis' daemon, Uncle?" he asked.

 

Orpah answered from the edge of her daughter-and-daughter's crib that she had perched on –

 

"She is Hecate."

 

_Hecate._

 

Feanaro knew not the language of daemons, but even without Pandora's input he felt it seemed to suit her.

 

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

 

Daemons introduced in this chapter include those of…

 

Maedhros:            Calliope, a Bengal tiger

Maglor:                Aoide, a yellow-crowned night heron

Celegorm:            Clio, a long-tailed shrike – her cap fully black

Caranthir:            Urania, a black currawong

Curufin:               Melete, an eclectus parrot

Amrod:                Thalia, a monarch butterfly

Amras:                 Terpischore, a viceroy butterfly

Galadriel:             Hecate, an Indian cobra; female – her scales white

Aredhel:               Paris, whose form has not been mentioned yet

Angrod:                Zipporah, whose form has not been mentioned yet

 

And from previous parts...

 

Feanor:               Pandora, a bearded vulture aflame – perhaps a phoenix?

Nerdanel:            Hephaestus, a common raven

Fingolfin:            Ruth, an Andalusian horse, dark brown in colour

Finarfin:              Orpah, an emerald-spotted wood dove

Finwe:                 Gaia, a scarlet kingsnake

 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I should say that Maglor's daemon was actually the inspiration for this whole project. Unlike most of the characters, giving him a heron wasn't strictly speaking due to the nature of real-life herons - rather, my workplace had a project involving a medieval Iranian poem called 'The Conference of the Birds', and the heron is one of the birds appearing in the poem. Among its lines are:   
> "... but since I - a bird - must be excluded from the deep; I haunt the solitary shore and weep."   
> You can probably imagine why Maglor came to mind. So, he and the heron became entwined in my mind and I started another daemon!fic because of it.


End file.
